JAMES I., king of Scots,
and illustrious both in political and literary history, was born at
Dunfermline in the year 1394. He was the third son of Robert III., king
of Scots, (whose father, Robert II., was the first sovereign of the
Stuart family,) by his consort Annabella. or Annaple Drummond, daughter
of Sir John Drummond of Stobhall, ancestor of the noble family of Perth.
It appears that John Stuart, for such was the real name of Robert III.,
had married Annaple Drummond at a period antecedent to the year 1358; as
in 1357, he and his wife received a charter of the earldom of Athol from
David II. The unusual period of thirty-seven years at least, must thus
have elapsed between the marriage of the parents and the birth of their
distinguished son. Their eldest child, David, born in 1373, and created
duke of Rothesay, was starved to death by his uncle the duke of Albany
in 1402; a second son, John, died in infancy. The inheritance of the
crown was thus opened upon prince James at the age of eight years, but
under circumstances which rendered the prospect less agreeable than
dangerous. The imbecility of Robert III. had permitted the reins of
government to be assumed by his brother the duke of Albany, who
meditated a transference of the sovereignty to his own family, and
scrupled at no measures which might promise to aid him in his object.
There was the greatest reason to apprehend that prince James, as well as
his elder brother the duke of Rothesay, would be removed by some foul
means, through the machinations of Albany; after which, the existence of
the king’s female children would present but a trifling obstacle to his
assuming the rights of heir presumptive.

The education of prince
James was early confided to Wardlaw, bishop of St Andrews, the learned
and excellent prelate, who, in founding the university in his
metropolitan city, became the originator of that valuable class of
institutions in Scotland. Sinclair, earl of Orkney, and Sir David
Fleming of Cumbernauld, were among the barons who superintended the
instruction of the prince in martial and athletic exercises. For the
express purpose of saving him from the flings of his uncle, it was
resolved by the king, in 1405, to send him to the court of Charles VI.
of France, where he might at once be safer in person, and receive a
superior education to what could be obtained in his own country. With
this view the young prince was privately conducted to East Lothian, and
embarked on board a vessel at the isle of the Bass, along with the earl
of Orkney and a small party of friends. It would appear that he thus
escaped his uncle by a very narrow chance, as Sir David Fleming, in
returning from the place of embarkation, was set upon at Long-Hermandstone
by the retainers of that wicked personage, and cruelly slain.

James pursued his voyage
towards France, till, cruising along the coast of Norfolk, his vessel
was seized by a squadron of armed merchantmen, commanded by John Jolyff,
and belonging to the port of Clay. Though this event took place in the
time of a truce between the two countries, (April 12, 1405,) Henry IV.
of England reconciled his conscience to the detention of the prince, for
which, indeed, it is highly probable he had made some arrangements
previously with the duke of Albany, his faithful ally, and the imitator
of his conduct. When the earl of Orkney presented a remonstrance against
such an unjustifiable act, asserting that the education of the prince
was the sole object of his voyage to France, he turned it off with a
jest, to the effect, that he was as well acquainted with the French
language, and could teach it as well as the king of France, [It will be
recollected that French was the common language of the court of England,
and of all legal and public business, till the age following that of
Henry IV.] so that the prince would lose nothing by remaining where he
was. He soon showed, however, the value which he attached to the
possession of the prince’s person, by shutting him up in the castle of
Pevensey in Sussex. The aged king of Scotland sank under this new
calamity; and, dying April 4, 1406, left the nominal sovereignty to his
captive son, but the real power of the state to his flagitious brother,
the duke of Albany, who assumed the title of governor.

Having no design against
the mind of his captive, Henry furnished him in a liberal manner with
the means of continuing his education. Sir John Pelham, the constable of
Pevensey castle, and one of the most distinguished knights of the age,
was appointed his governor; and masters were provided for instructing
him in various accomplishments and branches of knowledge. To quote the
words of Mr Tytler, [Lives of Scottish Worthies, ii. 263.] "In all
athletic and manly exercises, in the use of his weapons, in his skill in
horsemanship, his speed in running, his strength and dexterity as a
wrestler, his firm and fair aim as a joister and tourneyer, the young
king is allowed by all contemporary writers to have arrived at a pitch
of excellence which left most of his own age far behind him; and as he
advanced to maturity, his figure, although not so tall as to be majestic
or imposing, was, from its make, peculiarly adapted for excellence in
such accomplishments. His chest was broad and full, his arms somewhat
long and muscular, his flanks thin and spare, and his limbs beautifully
formed; so as to combine elegance and lightness with strength. In
throwing the hammer, and propelling, or, to use the Scottish phrase,
‘putting’ the stone, and in skill in archery, we have the testimony of
an ancient chronicle, that none in his own dominions could surpass him.
* * * To skill in warlike exercises, every youthful candidate for honour
and for knighthood was expected to unite a variety of more pacific and
elegant accomplishments, which were intended to render him a delightful
companion in the hall, as the others were calculated to make him a
formidable enemy in the field. The science of music, both instrumental
and vocal; the composition and recitation of ballads, roundelays, and
other minor pieces of poetry; an acquaintance with the romances and the
writings of the popular poets of the times—were all essential branches
in the system of education which was then adopted in the castle of any
feudal chief; and from Pelham, who had himself been brought up as the
squire of the duke of Lancaster, we may be confident that the Scottish
king received every advantage which could be conferred by skilful
instructors, and by the most ample opportunities of cultivation and
improvement. Such lessons and exhibitions, however, might have been
thrown away upon many, but James had been born with those natural
capacities which fitted him to excel in them. He possessed a fine and
correct musical ear; a voice which was rich, flexible, and sufficiently
powerful for chamber music; and an enthusiastic delight in the art,
which, unless controlled by strong good sense, and a feeling of the
higher destinies to which he was called, might have led to a dangerous
devotion to it. * * Cut off for a long and tedious period from his crown
and his people, James could afford to spend many hours each day in the
cultivation of accomplishments to which, under other circumstances, it
would have been criminal to have given up so much of his time. And this
will easily account for that high musical excellence to which he
undoubtedly attained, and will explain the great variety of instruments
upon which he performed. * * He was acquainted with the Latin language,
as far, at least, as was permitted by the rude and barbarous condition
in which it existed previous to the revival of letters. In theology,
oratory, and grammar—in the civil and canon laws, he was instructed by
the best masters; and an acquaintance with Norman-French was necessarily
acquired at a court where it was still currently spoken and highly
cultivated. Devoted, however, as he was to these pursuits, James appears
to have given his mind with a still stronger bias to the study of
English poetry, choosing Chaucer and Gower for his masters in the art,
and entering with the utmost ardour into the great object of the first
of these illustrious men—the improvement of the English language, the
production of easy and natural rhymes, and the refinement of poetical
numbers from the rude compositions which had preceded him."

Thus passed years of
restraint, unmarked by any other incident than removal from one place of
captivity to another, till the death of Henry IV. in 1414. On the very
day after this event, the "gallant" Henry V. ordered his royal prisoner
to be removed to close confinement in the Tower. In general, however,
the restraint imposed upon the young king was not inconsistent with his
enjoyment of the pleasures of life, among which one of the most
agreeable must have been the intercourse which he was allowed to hold
with his Scottish friends. It is the opinion of Mr Tytler, that the
policy of the English kings in this matter was much regulated by the
terror in which they held a mysterious person residing at the Scottish
court, under the designation of king Richard, and who was the object of
perpetual conspiracies among the enemies of the house of Lancaster. It
is at least highly probable that Albany kept up that personage as a kind
of bug-bear, to induce the English monarch to keep a close guard over
his nephew.

The duke of Albany died
in 1419, and was succeeded as governor by his eldest son Murdoch, who
was as weak as his father had been energetic and ambitious. About the
same time, a large party of Scottish knights and their retainers
proceeded, under the command of the earl of Buchan, second son of
Albany, to assist the French king in repelling the efforts which Henry
V. of England was making to gain the sovereignty of France. In the hope,
perhaps, of gaining his deliverance, James was persuaded by king Henry
to accompany him to France, and to join with him in taking the opposite
side to that which was assumed by this party of his subjects. But of
this part of his life no clear account is preserved; only the
consideration which he attained with the English king is amply proved by
his acting (1422) as chief mourner at his funeral. This, however, was an
event which he had little reason to regret, as it opened a prospect of
his obtaining his liberty, a circumstance which would scarcely have
taken place during the life of Henry; or, at least, while that prince
lived, James could not look forward to any definite period for the
termination of his captivity.

The duke of Bedford, who
was appointed protector of England on the death of Henry, adopting a
wiser policy with regard to Scotland than that monarch had pursued,
offered to deliver up the Scottish king on payment of a ransom of forty
thousand pounds, to be paid within six years by half yearly payments,
and that hostages should be given for the faithful liquidation of the
debt. The English, disavowing the term ransom as derogatory, in this
instance, to the national character and dignity, alleged that the
pecuniary consideration was demanded as payment of the king’s
maintenance while in England; but as Henry V. allowed only £700 a-year
for this purpose, and the term of James’s captivity was about nineteen
years, giving thus an amount of something more than £13,000 altogether,
it is pretty evident that they did not intend to be losers by the
transaction—though, as the money was never paid, they certainly were not
gainers. After a good deal of delay, and much discussion on both sides,
the arrangement for the liberation of the king was finally adjusted by
the Scottish commissioners, who proceeded to London for that purpose, on
the 9th of March, 1423; and amongst other securities for the stipulated
sum, tendered that of the burghs of Edinburgh, Perth, Dundee, and
Aberdeen. Previously to his leaving England, James married Joanna,
daughter of the duchess of Clarence, niece of Richard II. To this lady
the Scottish monarch had been long attached. Her beauty had inspired his
muse, and was the frequent theme of his song. Amongst the poems
attributed to the royal poet, there is one, entitled "A Sang on
Absence," beginning " Sen that the eyne that worlds my weilfair," in
which he bewails, in strains breathing the warmest and most ardent
attachment, the absence of his mistress; and in the still more elaborate
production of the "King’s Quair," he thus speaks of her:—

"Of hir array, the form gif I sall
write
Toward her goldin haire and rich atyre
In fret wise couchit with perlis white;
And grete balas lemyng as the fire,
With many ane emerant and sapphire;
And on hir hide a chaplet fresh of hewe
Of plumys partit rede, and white, and blue."

In this beautiful poem
the enamoured king describes himself as having first fallen in love with
his future queen, as she was walking in the gardens under the tower at
Windsor in which he was confined.

It is probable that he
lost no time in making his fair enslaver aware of the conquest she had
made, and it is also likely that her walks under the tower were not
rendered less frequent by the discovery. The splendour of Joanna’s
dress, as described in this poem, is very remarkable. She seems to have
been covered with jewels, and to have been altogether arrayed in the
utmost magnificence; not improbably, in the consciousness of the eyes
that were upon her. The result, at all events, shows that the captive
prince must have found means sooner or later of communicating with the
fair idol of his affections.

The marriage ceremony was
performed at the church of St Mary’s Overy in Southwark; the king
receiving with his bride as her marriage portion, a discharge for ten
thousand pounds of his ransom money!

James was in the
thirtieth year of his age when he was restored to his liberty and his
kingdom. Proceeding first to Edinburgh, where he celebrated the festival
of Easter, he afterwards went on to Scone, accompanied by his queen,
where they were both solemnly crowned; Murdoch duke of Albany, as earl
of Fife, performing the ceremony of installing the sovereign on the
throne.

Immediately after the
coronation, James convoked a parliament in Perth, and by the proceedings
of that assembly, gave intimation to the kingdom of the commencement of
a vigorous reign. Amongst many other wise and judicious ordinations,
this national council enacted, that the king’s peace should be firmly
held, and no private wars allowed, and that no man should travel with a
greater number of retainers than he could maintain; that a sufficient
administration of law be appointed throughout the realm; and that no
extortion from churchmen or farmers in particular be admitted. James had
early been impressed with the necessity of arresting with a vigorous and
unsparing hand, the progress of that system of fraud and rapine to which
the country had been a prey during the regencies that preceded his
accession to the throne; a policy which, perhaps, though both necessary
and just, there is some reason to believe he carried too far, or at
least prosecuted with a mind not tempered by judicious and humane
considerations. When first informed, on his arrival in the kingdom, of
the lawlessness which prevailed in it, he is said to have exclaimed, "By
the help of God, though I should myself lead the life of a dog, I shall
make the key keep the castle, and the bush secure the cow." Than such a
resolution as this, nothing could have been wiser or more praiseworthy,
and he certainly did all he could, and probably more than he ought, to
accomplish the desirable end which the sentiment proposed; but he seems
to have been somewhat indiscriminating in his vengeance. This
indiscrimination may be only apparent, and may derive its character from
the imperfectness of the history of that period; but as we judge of the
good by what is upon record, we are bound to judge of the bad by the
same rule; and it would be rather a singular mischance, if error and
misrepresentation were always and exclusively on the side of the latter.
It is, at any rate, certain, that a remarkable humanity, or any
remarkable inclination to the side of mercy, were by no means amongst
the number of James’s good qualities, numerous though these assuredly
were. With the best intentions towards the improvement of his kingdom,
and the bettering of the condition of his subjects, James had yet the
misfortune to excite, at the commencement of his reign, a very general
feeling of dissatisfaction with his government.

This, amongst the
aristocracy, proceeded from the severity with which he threatened to
visit their offences; and amongst the common people, from his having
imposed a tax to pay the ransom money stipulated for his release from
captivity. This tax was proposed to be levied at the rate of twelve
pennies in the pound on all sorts of produce, on farms and annual rents,
cattle and grain, and to continue for two years. The tax was with great
difficulty collected the first year, but in the second the popular
impatience and dissatisfaction became so general and so marked, that the
king thought it advisable to abandon it; and the consequence was, as
already remarked, that the debt was never discharged. The reluctance of
the nation to pay the price of their prince’s freedom may appear
ungenerous, and as implying an indifference towards him personally; but
this is not a necessary, nor is it the only conclusion which may be
inferred from the circumstance. It is probable that they may have
considered the demand of England unreasonable and unjust, and it
certainly was both, seeing that James was no prisoner of war, but had
been made captive at a time when the two kingdoms were at peace with
each other. To make him prisoner, therefore, and make him pay for it
too, seems indeed to have been rather a hard case, and such it was
probably esteemed by his subjects. The policy which James proposed to
adopt, was not limited to the suppression of existing evils or to the
prevention of their recurrence in time to come, but extended to the
punishing of offences long since committed, and of which, in many
instances, though we are told the results, we are left uninformed of the
crime. At the outset of his reign he had ordered the arrest of Walter,
eldest son of.Murdoch, duke of Albany, the late regent, together with
that of Malcolm Fleming of Cumbernauld, and Thomas Boyd of Kilmnarnock;
and soon afterwards, taking advantage of the circumstance of a meeting
of parliament at Perth, which he had convoked probably for the purpose
of bringing them within his reach, he ordered the arrest of Murdoch
himself, his second son, Alexander Stewart, the earls of Douglas, Angus,
and March, and twenty other gentlemen of note.

The vengeance, however, which gave
rise to this proceeding, was followed out only in the case of Albany; at
least his punishment only is recorded in the accounts given by our
historians of this transaction, while all the others are allowed to drop
out of sight without any further notice of them in connexion with that
event. Indeed the whole of this period of Scottish history is
exceedingly obscure; much of it is confused, inconsistent, and
inexplicable, and is therefore indebted almost wholly to conjecture for
any interest it possesses, and perhaps no portion of it is more obscure
than that which includes the occurrence which has just been alluded to.
The king’s vengeance is said to have been

exclusively aimed at Albany. Then,
wherefore the arrest of the others? Because, it is said they were the
friends of the late regent, and might have defeated the ends of justice
had they been left at liberty, or at least might have been troublesome
in the event of his condemnation. But how is this to be reconciled with
the fact, that several of those arrested with Albany were of the jury
that found him guilty on his trial, which took place a few weeks
afterwards? All that we certainly know of this matter, is, that Murdoch
was committed a close prisoner to Carlaveroc castle, while his duchess,
Isabella, shared a similar fate in Tantallon, and that the king
immediately after seized upon, and took possession of his castles of
Falkland in Fife, and Downs in Menteith; that soon afterwards, Albany,
with his two sons, Walter and Alexander, together with the aged earl of
Lennox, were brought to trial, condemned to death, and beheaded. The
principal offence, so far as is known, for on this point also, there is
much obscurity, charged against those unfortunate persons, was their
having dilapidated the royal revenues while the king was captive in
England. The fate of the two sons of the regent, who were remarkably
stout and handsome young men, excited a good deal of commiseration. The
moment their sentence was pronounced, they were led out to execution.
Their father and Lennox were beheaded on the following day. The scene of
this tragedy was a rising ground immediately adjoining Stirling castle.

It is not improbable,
that circumstances unknown to us may have warranted this instance of
sanguinary severity on the part of the king; but it is unfortunate for
his memory, that these circumstances, if they did exist, should be
unknown; for as it now stands, he cannot be acquitted of cruelty in this
case, as well as some others, otherwise than by alleging, that he was
incapable of inflicting an unmerited punishment,— a defence more
generous than satisfactory. The parliaments, however, which James
convoked, continued remarkable for the wisdom of their decrees, for the
number of salutary laws which they enacted, and for the anxiety
generally which they discovered for the prosperity of the kingdom.
Amongst the most curious of their laws is one which forbids any man who
has accused another, from being of the jury on his trial! It is not easy
to conceive what were the notions of jurisprudence which permitted the
existence of the practice which this statute is meant to put an end to.
The allowing the accuser to be one of the jury on the trial of the
person he has accused, seems an absurdity and impropriety too palpable
and gross to be apologized for, even by the rudeness and barbarity of
the times. Another curious statute of this period enacts, that no
traveller shall lodge with his friends, but at the common inn. The
object of this was to encourage these institutions, only about this time
first established in Scotland. They seem, however, very soon to have
become popular, as it was shortly afterwards enjoined by act of
parliament, that no one should remain in taverns after nine o’clock at
night. This of course was meant only to apply to those who resided near
the spot, and not to travellers at a distance from their homes.

The subjugation of the
Highlands and Isles next occupied the attention of the stern and active
monarch. These districts were in the most lawless state, and neither
acknowledged the authority of the parliament nor the king. With the view
of introducing a better order of things into these savage provinces, and
of bringing to condign punishment some of the most turbulent chieftains,
James assembled a parliament at Inverness, and specially summoned the
heads of the clans to attend it. The summons was obeyed, and about fifty
chieftains of various degrees of note and power arrived at Inverness at
the appointed time, and were all made prisoners; amongst the rest,
Alexander, lord of the Isles. Several of them were instantly beheaded
after a summary trial, the others were distributed throughout the
different prisons of the kingdom, or kept in ward at the castles of the
nobility. The greater part of them were afterwards put to death, and the
remainder finally restored to liberty. With a degree of cruelty which
the case does not seem to warrant, the countess of Ross, the mother of
the lord of the Isles, was made a prisoner along with her son, and was
long detained in captivity in the island of Inch Combe in the Firth of
Forth. Alexander, after a year’s confinement, was allowed to return to
his own country, on condition that he would in future refrain from all
acts of violence; his mother in the mean time being held a hostage for
his good conduct.

Equally regardless,
however, of his promises and the predicament of his parent, he, soon
after regaining his liberty, with a large body of followers attacked and
burned the town of Inverness. James, to revenge this outrage, instantly
collected an army and marched against the perpetrator, whom he overtook
in the neighbourhood of Lochaber. A battle ensued, in which the lord of
the Isles; who is said to have had an army of ten thousand men under
him, was totally defeated. Humbled by this misfortune, Alexander soon
after made an attempt to procure a reconciliation with the king, but
failing in this, he finally resolved to throw himself upon the mercy of
the sovereign. With this view he came privately to Edinburgh, and
attired only in his shirt and drawers, he placed himself before the high
altar of Holyrood church, and on his knees, in presence of the queen and
a number of nobles, presented his naked sword to the king. For this act
of humiliation and humble submission, his life was spared; but he was
ordered into close confinement in the castle of Tantallon. Some curious
and interesting considerations naturally present themselves when
contemplating the transactions just spoken of. Amongst these a wonder is
excited to find the summons of the king to the fierce, lawless
chieftains of the Highlands so readily obeyed. To see them walk so
tamely into the trap which was laid for them, when they must have known,
from the previous character of the king, that if they once placed
themselves within his reach, they might be assured of being subjected to
punishment. Supposing, again, that they were deceived as to his
intentions, and had no idea that he meant them any personal violence,
but were inveigled within his power by faithless assurances; it then
becomes matter of astonishment, that in the very midst of their clans,
in the heart of their own country, and in the immediate neighbourhood of
their inaccessible retreats; the king should have been able, without
meeting with any resistance, to take into custody and carry away as
prisoners, no fewer than fifty powerful chieftains, and even to put some
of them to death upon the spot. This wonder is not lessened by finding
that the lord of the Isles himself could bring into the field ten
thousand men, while the greater part of the others could muster from
five hundred to five thousand each; and it might be thought that,
however great was their enmity to each other, they would have made
common cause in such a case as this, and have all united in rescuing
their chiefs from the hands of him who must have appeared their common
enemy; but no such effort was made, and the whole Highlands as it were
looked quietly on and permitted their chief men to be carried away into
captivity. In the midst of these somewhat inexplicable considerations,
however, there is one very evident and remarkable circumstance; this is
the great power of the king, which could thus enable him to enforce so
sweeping an act of justice in so remote and barbarous a part of his
kingdom; and perhaps a more striking instance of the existence of that
extraordinary power, and of terror inspired by the royal name, is not to
be found in the pages of Scottish history.

The parliament of James,
directed evidently by the spirit of the monarch, continued from time to
time to enact the most salutary laws. In 1427, it was decreed, that a
fine of ten pounds should be imposed upon burgesses who, being summoned,
should refuse to attend parliament, without showing satisfactory cause
for their absence; and in the same year several acts were passed for the
punishment of murder and felony. The first of these acts, however, was
repealed in the following year, by introducing a new feature into the
legislature of the kingdom. The attendance of small barons or
freeholders in parliament was dispensed with, on condition that each
shire sent two commissioners, whose expenses were to be paid by the
freeholders. Another singular decree was also passed this year,
enjoining the successors and heirs of prelates and barons to take an
oath of fidelity to the queen. This was an unusual proceeding, but not
an unwise one, as it was evidently a provision for the event of the
king’s death, should it happen during the minority of his heir and
successor. It did so happen; and though history is silent on the
subject, there is reason to believe that the queen enjoyed the advantage
which the act intended to secure to her.

In the year 1428, James
wisely strengthened the Scottish alliance with France, by betrothing his
eldest daughter, Margaret, but yet in her infancy, to the dauphin,
afterwards Louis XI., also at this time a mere child. This contract,
however, was not carried into effect until the year 1436, when the
dauphin had attained his thirteenth year, and his bride her twelfth. The
marriage eventually proved an exceedingly unhappy one. The husband of
the Scottish princess was a man of the worst dispositions, and
unfortunately there were others about him no less remarkable for their
bad qualities. One of these, Jamet de Villy, impressed him, by tales
which were afterwards proven to be false, with a suspicion of the
dauphiness’s fidelity. Though innocent, the unhappy princess was so
deeply affected by the infamous accusations which were brought against
her, that she took to bed, and soon after died of a broken heart,
exclaiming before she expired, "Ah! Jamet, Jamet, you have gained your
purpose;" such mild but affecting expressions being all that her hard
fate and the malice of her enemies could elicit from the dying princess.
Jamet was afterwards proven, in a legal investigation which took place
into the cause of the death of Margaret, to be a "scoundrel" and "common
liar." The death of this princess took place nine years after the
marriage, and seven after the death of her father; who, had he been
alive, would not, it is probable, have permitted the treatment of his
daughter to have passed without some token of his resentment.

The short remaining
portion of James’s life, either from the defectiveness of the records of
that period, or because they really did not occur, presents us with few
events of any great importance. Amongst those worthy of any notice, are,
a commercial league of one hundred years, entered into between Scotland
and Flanders; the passing of a sumptuary law, forbidding any one but
lords and knights, their eldest sons and heirs, from wearing silks and
furs; a decree declaring all Scotsmen traitors who travel into England
without the king’s leave. Another enjoined all barons and lords having
lands on the western or northern seas, particularly those opposite to
the islands, to furnish a certain number of galleys, according to their
tenures; an injunction which was but little attended to. In 1431, James
renewed the treaty of peace with England, then just expiring, for five
years. In this year also, a desperate encounter took place at Inverlochy,
between Donald Balloch, and the earls of Mar and Caithness, in which the
former was victorious. The earl of Caithness, with sixteen squires of
his family, fell in this sanguinary engagement. Another conflict, still
more deadly, took place about the same time in Strathnavern, between
Angus Duff chief of the Mackays of that district, and Angus Moray. There
were twelve hundred men on either side, and it is said, that on the
termination of the fight there were scarcely nine left alive.

James, in the mean time,
proceeded with his system of hostility to the nobles, availing himself
of every opportunity which presented itself of humbling them, and of
lessening their power. He threw into prison his own nephews, the earl of
Douglas, and Sir John Kennedy, and procured the forfeiture of the
estates of the earl of March. The reasons for the first act of severity
are now unknown. That for the second was that the earl of March’s father
had been engaged in rebellion against the kingdom during the regency of
Albany. The policy of James in arraying himself against his nobles, and
maintaining an attitude of hostility towards them during his reign,
seems of very questionable propriety, to say nothing of the apparent
character of unmerited severity which it assumes in many instances. He
no doubt found on his arrival in the kingdom, many crimes to punish
amongst that class, and much feudal tyranny to suppress; but it is not
very evident that his success would have been less, or the object which
he aimed at less surely accomplished, had he done this with a more
lenient hand. By making the nobles his friends in place of his enemies,
he would assuredly have established and maintained the peace of the
kingdom still more effectually than he did. They were men, rude as they
were, who would have yielded a submission to a personal affection for
their prince, which they would, and did refuse to his authority as a
ruler. James erred in aiming at governing by fear, when he should have
governed by love. A splendid proof of his error in this particular is
presented in the conduct of his great grandson, James IV. who pursued a
directly opposite course with regard to his nobles, and with results
infinitely more favourable to the best interests of the kingdom. Only
one event now of any moment occurs until the premature death of James;
this is the siege of Roxburgh. To revenge an attempt which had been made
by the English to intercept his daughter on her way to France, he raised
an army of, it has been computed, two hundred thousand men, and marching
into England, besieged the castle of Roxburgh; but after spending
fifteen days before that stronghold, and expending nearly all the
missive arms in the kingdom, he was compelled to abandon the siege, and
to return with his army without having effected any thing at all
commensurate with the extent of his preparations, or the prodigious
force which accompanied him. The melancholy catastrophe in which his
existence terminated was now fast approaching,—the result of his own
harsh conduct and unforgiving disposition.

The nobles, wearied out
with his oppressions, seem latterly to have been restrained only by a
want of unanimity amongst themselves from revenging the injuries they
had sustained at his hands, or by a want of individual resolution to
strike the fatal blow. At length one appeared who possessed the courage
necessary, for the performance of this desperate deed. This person was
Sir Robert Graham, uncle to the earl of Strathern. He also had been
imprisoned by James, and was therefore his enemy on personal as well as
general grounds.

At this crisis of the
dissatisfaction of the nobles, Graham offered, in a meeting of the
latter, to state their grievances to the king, and to demand the redress
of these grievances, provided those who then heard him would second him
in so doing. The lords accepted his offer, and pledged themselves to
support him. Accordingly, in the very next parliament Graham rose up,
and having advanced to where the king was seated, laid his hand upon his
shoulder, and said, "I arrest you in the name of all the three estates
of your realm here assembled in parliament, for as your people have
sworn to obey you, so are you constrained by an equal oath to govern by
law, and not to wrong your subjects, but in justice to maintain and
defend them." Then turning round to the assembled lords, "Is it not thus
as I say?" he exclaimed;—but the appeal remained unanswered. Either awed
by the royal presence, or thinking that Graham had gone too far, the
lords meanly declined to afford him the support which they had promised
him. That Graham had done a rash thing, and had said more than his
colleagues meant he should have said, is scarcely an apology for their
deserting him as they did in the hour of trial. They ought at least to
have afforded him some countenance, and to have acknowledged so much of
his reproof as they were willing should have been administered; and
there is little doubt that a very large portion of its spirit was theirs
also, although they seem to have lacked the courage to avow it. Graham
was instantly ordered into confinement, and was soon after deprived of
all his possessions and estates, and banished the kingdom. Brooding over
his misfortunes, and breathing vengeance against him who was the cause
of them, the daring exile retired to the remotest parts of the
Highlands, and there arranged and perfected his plans of revenge. He
first wrote letters to the king, renouncing his allegiance and defying
his wrath, up-braiding him with being the ruin of himself, his wife, and
his children, and concluded with declaring that he would put him to
death with his own hand, if opportunity should offer. The answer to
these threats and defiances was a proclamation which the king
immediately issued, promising three thousand demies of gold, of the
value of half an English noble each, to any one who should bring in
Graham dead or alive.

The king’s proclamation,
however, was attended with no effect. The object of it not only remained
in safety in his retreat, but proceeded to mature the schemes of
vengeance which he meditated against his sovereign. He opened a
correspondence with several of the nobility, in which he unfolded the
treason which he designed, and offered to assassinate the king with his
own hand.

The general dislike which
was entertained for James, and which was by no means confined to the
aristocracy, for his exactions had rendered his government obnoxious
also to the common people, soon procured for Graham a powerful
co-operation; and the result was, that a regular and deep-laid
conspiracy, and which included even some of the king’s most familiar
domestics, was speedily formed. In the mean time, the king, unconscious
of the fate which was about to overtake him, had removed with his court
to Perth to celebrate the festival of Christmas. While on his way
thither, according to popular tradition, he was accosted by a
soothsayer, who forewarned him of the disaster which was to happen him.
"My lord king," she said, for it was a prophetess who spoke, "if ye pass
this water," (the Forth) "ye shall never return again alive." The king
is said to have been much struck by the oracular intimation, and not the
less so that he had read in some prophecy a short while before, that in
that year a king of Scotland should be slain. The monarch, however, did
not himself deign on this occasion to interrogate the soothsayer as to
what she meant, but deputed the task to one of the knights, whom he
desired to turn aside and hold some conversation with her. This
gentleman soon after rejoined the king, and representing the prophetess
as a foolish inebriated woman, recommended to his majesty to pay no
attention to what she had said. Accordingly no further notice seems to
have been taken of the circumstance. The royal party crossed the water
and arrived in safety at Perth; the king, with his family and domestics,
taking up his residence at the Dominicans’ or Blackfriars’ monastery.
The conspirators, in the mean time, fully informed of his motions, had
so far completed their arrangements as to have fixed the night on which
he should be assassinated. This was, according to some authorities, the
night of the second Wednesday of lent, or the 27th day of February; by
others, the first Wednesday of lent, or between the twentieth or
twenty-first of that month, in the year 1437: and the latter is deemed
the more accurate date. James spent the earlier part of the evening in
playing chess with one of his knights, whom, for his remarkable devotion
to the fair sex he humorously nicknamed the King of Love. The king was
in high spirits during the progress of the game, and indulged in a
number of jokes at the expense of his brother king; but the dark hints
which he had had of his fate, seemed, as it were in spite of himself, to
have made an impression upon him, and were always present to him even in
his merriest moods, and it was evidently under this feeling that he
said—more in earnest than in joke, though he endeavoured to give it the
latter character—to his antagonist in the game, "Sir King of Love, it is
not long since I read a prophecy which foretold that in this year a king
should be slain in this land, and ye know well, sir, that there are no
kings in this realm but you and I. I therefore advise you to look
carefully to your own safety, for I give you warning that I shall see
that mine is sufficiently provided for." Shortly after this a number of
lords and knights thronged into the king’s chamber, and the mirth,
pastime, and joke went on with increased vigour. In the midst of the
revelry, however, the king received another warning of his approaching
fate. "My lord," said one of his favourite squires, tempted probably by
the light tone of the conversation which was going forward, "I have
dreamed that Sir Robert Graham should have slain you." The earl of
Orkney, who was present, rebuked the squire for the impropriety of his
speech, but the king, differently affected, said that he himself had
dreamed a terrible dream on the very night of which his attendant spoke.

In the mean time, the
night wore on, and all still remained quiet in and around the monastery
but at this very moment, Graham, with three hundred fierce Highlanders,
was lurking in the neighbourhood, waiting the midnight hour to break in
upon the ill-fated monarch. The mirth and pastime in the king’s chamber
continued until supper was served, probably about nine o’clock at night.
As the hour of this repast approached, however, all retired excepting
the earl of Athol and Robert Stuart, the king’s nephew, and one of his
greatest favourites, considerations which could not bind him to the
unfortunate monarch, for he too was one of the conspirators, and did
more than any one of them to facilitate the murderous intentions of his
colleagues, by destroying the fastenings of the king’s chamber door.
After supper the amusements of the previous part of the evening were
resumed, and chess, music, singing, and the reading of romances, wiled
away the next two or three hours. On this fatal evening another
circumstance occurred, which might have aroused the suspicions of the
king, if he had not been most unaccountably insensible to the frequent
hints and indirect intimations which he had received of some imminent
peril hanging over him. The same woman who had accosted him before
crossing the firth again appeared, and knocking at his chamber door at a
late hour of the night, sought to be admitted to the presence of the
king. "Tell him," she said to the usher who came forth from the
apartment when she knocked, "that I am the same woman who not long ago
desired to speak with him when he was about to cross the sea, and that I
have something to say to him." The usher immediately conveyed the
message to the king, but he being wholly engrossed by the game in which
he was at the instant engaged, merely ordered her to return on the
morrow. "Well," replied the disappointed soothsayer, as she at the first
interview affected to be, "ye shall all of you repent that I was not
permitted just now to speak to the king." The usher laughing at what he
conceived to be the expressions of a fool, ordered the woman to begone,
and she obeyed. The night was now wearing late, and the king, having put
an end to the evening’s amusements, called for the parting cup. This
drunk, the party broke up, and James retired to his bed-chamber, where
he found the queen and her ladies amusing themselves with cheerful
conversation. The king, now in his night-gown and slippers, placed
himself before the fire, and joined in the badinage which was going
forward. At this moment the king was suddenly startled by a great noise
at the outside of his chamber door, or rather in the passage which led
to it. The sounds were those of a crowd of armed men pressing hurriedly
forward. There was a loud clattering and jingling of arms and armour,
accompanied by the gleaming of torches. The king seems to have instantly
apprehended danger, a feeling which either he had communicated to the
ladies in the apartment, or they had of themselves conceived, for they
immediately rushed to the door with the view of securing it, but they
found all the fastenings destroyed, and a bar which should have been
there removed.

This being intimated to
the king, he called out to the ladies to hold fast the door as well as
they could, until he could find something wherewith to defend himself;
and he flew to the window of the apartment and endeavoured to wrench
away one of the iron staunchions for this purpose, but the bar resisted
all his efforts. In this moment of horror and despair, the unhappy
monarch next seized the tongs, which lay by the fireside, and by their
means, and with some desperate efforts of personal strength, he tore up
a portion of the floor, and instantly descending through the aperture
into a mean receptacle which was underneath the chamber, drew the boards
down after him to their original position. In the mean time the ladies
had contrived to keep out the conspirators, and, in this effort, it is
said, Catharine Douglas had one of her arms broken, by having thrust it
into the wall in place of the bar which had been removed. The assassins,
however, at length forced their way into the apartment; and here a
piteous scene now ensued. The queen stood in the middle of the floor,
bereft of speech and of all power of motion by her terror, while her
ladies, several of whom were severely hurt and wounded, filled the
apartment with the most lamentable cries and shrieks.

One of the ruffians on
entering inflicted a severe wound on the queen, and would have killed
her outright, but for the interference of one of the sons of Sir Robert
Graham, who, perceiving the dastard about to repeat the blow, exclaimed,
"What would ye do to the queen? for shame of yourself, she is but a
woman; let us go and seek the king." The conspirators, who were all
armed with swords, daggers, axes, and other weapons, now proceeded to
search for the king. They examined all the beds, presses, and other
probable places of concealment, overturned forms and chairs, but to no
purpose; the king could not be found, nor could they conceive how he had
escaped them. The conspirators, baulked in their pursuit, dispersed
themselves throughout the different apartments to extend their search.
This creating a silence in the apartment immediately above the king, the
unfortunate monarch conceived the conspirators had entirely withdrawn,
and in his impatience to get out of his disagreeable situation, called
out to the ladies to bring him sheets for that purpose. In the attempt
which immediately followed to raise him up by these means, Elizabeth
Douglas, another of the queen’s waiting-maids, fell into the hole in
which the king was concealed. At this moment, Thomas Chambers, one of
the assassins, and who was also one of the king’s domestics, entered the
apartment, and perceiving the opening in the floor, he immediately
proceeded towards it, and looking down into the cellar, with the
assistance of his torch discovered the king.

On descrying the object
of his search, Chambers exultingly called out to his companions, "Sirs,
the bride is found for whom we sought, and for whom we have caroled here
all night." The joyful tidings instantly brought a crowd of the
conspirators to the spot, and amongst the rest, Sir John Hall, who, with
a large knife in his hand, hastily descended to the king’s hiding-place.
The latter, however, who was a man of great personal strength, instantly
seized the assassin and threw him down at his feet; and his brother, who
followed, shared the same treatment—the king holding them both by their
throats, and with such a powerful grasp, that they bore marks of the
violence for a month afterwards. The unfortunate monarch now endeavoured
to wrest their knives from the assassins, and in the attempt had his
hands severely cut and mangled.

Sir Robert Graham, who
had hitherto been merely looking on, now seeing that the Halls could not
accomplish the murder of the king, also descended, and with a drawn
sword in his hand. Unable to cope with them all, and exhausted with the
fearful struggle which he had maintained with the two assassins,
weaponless and disabled in his hands, the king implored Graham for
mercy. "Cruel tyrant," replied the regicide, "thou hadst never mercy on
thy kindred nor on others who fell within thy power, and therefore, thou
shalt have no mercy from me." "Then I beseech thee, for the salvation of
my soul, that thou wilt permit me to have a confessor," said the
miserable prince. "Thou shalt have no confessor but the sword," replied
Graham, thrusting his victim through the body with his weapon. The king
fell, but the stroke was not instantly fatal. He continued in the most
piteous tones to supplicate mercy from his murderer, offering him half
his kingdom if he would but spare his life. The heart-rending appeals of
the hapless monarch shook even Graham’s resolution, and he was about to
desist from doing him further injury, when his intentions being
perceived by the conspirators from above, they called out to him that if
he did not complete the deed, he should himself suffer death at their
hands. Urged on by this threat, the three assassins again attacked the
king, and finally despatched him, having inflicted sixteen deadly wounds
on his chest, besides others on different parts of his body. As if every
circumstance which could facilitate his death had conspired to secure
that event, it happened that the king, some days before he was murdered,
had directed that an aperture in the place where he had concealed
himself, and by which he might have escaped, should be built up, as the
balls with which he played at tennis in the court yard were apt to be
lost in it. After completing the murder of the king, the assassins
sought for the queen, whom, dreading her vengeance, they proposed to put
also to death; but she had escaped. A rumour of the tragical scene that
was enacting at the monastery having spread through the town, great
numbers of the citizens and of the king’s servants, with arms and
torches hastened to the spot, but too late, to the assistance of the
murdered monarch. The conspirators, however, all escaped for the time,
excepting one, who was killed by Sir David Dunbar, who had himself three
fingers cut off in the contest. This brave knight had alone attacked the
flying conspirators, but was overpowered and left disabled.

In less than a month,
such was the activity of the queen’s vengeance, all the principal actors
in this appalling tragedy were in custody, and were afterwards put to
the most horrible deaths. Stuart and Chambers, who were the first taken,
were drawn, hanged, and quartered, having been previously lacerated all
over with sharp instruments. Graham was carried through the streets of
Edinburgh in a cart, in a state of perfect nudity, with his right hand
nailed to an upright post, and surrounded with men, who, with sharp
hooks and knives, and red hot irons, kept constantly tearing at and
burning his miserable body, until he was completely covered with wounds.
Having undergone this, he was again thrown into prison, and on the
following day brought out to execution. The wretched man had, when
released from his tortures, wrapped himself in a coarse woollen Scottish
plaid, which adhering to his wounds, caused him much pain in the
removal. When this operation was performed, and it was done with no
gentle hand, the miserable sufferer fainted, and fell to the ground with
the agony. On recovering, which he did not do for nearly a quarter of an
hour, he said to those around him, that the rude manner in which the
mantle had been removed, had given him greater pain than any he had yet
suffered. To increase the horrors of his situation, his son was
disembowelled alive before his face.

James I. perished in the forty-fourth
year of his age, after an actual reign of thirteen years. His progeny
were, a son, his successor, and five daughters. These were, Margaret,
married to the dauphin; Isabella, to Francis, duke of Bretagne; Eleanor,
to Sigismund, archduke of Austria; Mary, to the count de Boucquan and
Jean, to the earl of Angus, afterwards earl of Morton.

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